Hot Satin & Blood-Red Silk, an excerpt

Temperature high here today is set for 48F. Let’s see if we can heat up the week by starting with an excerpt from “Hot Satin & Blood-Red Silk.”

Hot Satin & Blood-Red Silk

Olivia once yearned for love and the perfect marriage. She thought she’d found it when HotSatinandBloodRedSilk_smshe wed sweet, handsome Ethan, never dreaming his romantic demeanor masked an abusive demon. Through her dreams, Olivia found the courage to leave him. Now, on a cold Valentine’s night, still recovering after the divorce yet feeling empowered once again, Olivia enjoys her freedom from love, with no wish to share this otherwise romantic evening with anyone. But freedom comes at a cost, and Olivia’s frozen heart and hungry soul possess a thirst for something she’s afraid to name. In answer to the call she cannot deny, Martin, her vampire mentor, finally returns to claim his chosen mate. And Olivia is more than ready to pay the price for her darkest passions, and to gain immortality. Karma can be a bitch–just ask Olivia’s ex-husband. But will her bargain with a vampire bring her everything she desires on Valentine’s Day?

Excerpt

It was a decadent display with scatters of black lace inset at the most provocative places. Olivia reached out to touch the molten creation, wanting to convince herself it wasn’t made of liquid fire, the way it shimmered beneath the lone spotlight above.

She closed her eyes as she absorbed its ethereal texture, imagined what it would feel like sliding against her own skin. But reality broke through. When would she ever have the nerve to wear something like this? Why would she want to? It was a garment meant to entice, and that was something she had absolutely no interest in doing. Her glance landed on her hand, on her ring finger, which still showed a shadow of the ring she’d once worn. Alas, she let her hand fall away and the silken mass drifted back to embrace the shapely leg of the inanimate model posed on the dais.

And yet, Olivia couldn’t bring herself to turn away; her feet seemed glued to the spot. She imagined the look of the man she would be willing to don such a sinful garment for. The perfect man–the embodiment of all she had once fantasized about. Before she’d met Ethan. Before he’d dashed all her dreams with the first punch to her stomach.

A whisper of an image formed inside her head. She tried to shove it away. Her skin grew hot at the thought of the touch of her fantasy lover. For the first time in many months her pussy grew wet at the thought of a man touching her. She fought against the image, tightened her thighs, tried to force the sexual heat back into its frozen compartment.

Try it on, Olivia. You’d look beautiful wearing it. Wearing it, and nothing else.

Olivia whipped around, searching for whomever it was that had spoken in that European-accented, sexy voice.

She saw him standing near the jewelry counter. It had to be him. Exquisitely dressed in a black suit, a white silk shirt. Pale skin, glossy black hair, mesmerizing black eyes. Her heartbeat quickened as she met his gaze. Recognition was just beginning to claw its way to the surface of her mind.

Ethan had been blond with light blue eyes and an all-too-easy smile. This man was nothing like Ethan. Ethan had never looked as dangerous as the man staring back at her from the other side of the store. Ethan’s rages had come out of nowhere, always catching her off guard. This man–no one could ever take for granted. Everything about him screamed dangerous.

Predator.

Run, Olivia, run. Her own voice screamed inside her head.

Too late.

The dressing room, Olivia. Go there now.

She knew him. She recognized that voice. Her whole body recognized that voice, not just her mind. She couldn’t help responding. Primed like Pavlov’s dog. This man was inside her mind. Not a new presence, but one that had remained in hibernation all these many months, the memory shielded from awareness.

He hadn’t said a word. She never saw his lips move. And yet she felt compelled–compelled to go to the dressing room. Compelled to do as she was told. Without question.

“Closing time in fifteen minutes. Please complete your shopping and make your way to a cashier.”

Olivia heard the announcement, but it seemed to bear no relationship to her. Instead she moved toward the dressing rooms. None of the sales clerks stopped her. None of them looked at her as she passed them. She focused on making it to the farthest cubicle from the activity in the store.

Silence. Barely a whisper of sound. Perfect.

Olivia slipped inside, closed and locked the door, shutting out the last vestiges of the voices of the clerks and the echoing footsteps of straggling customers in the store. She closed her eyes, took a deep shuddering breath, then opened them again, and stared into the mirror, gazed at her own reflection. He didn’t have to tell her. This was it. She’d waited a long time. Slowly she removed her clothing.

Olivia dropped her purse and then her gloves. Her coat followed. Her black cotton shirt, her black and white checked wool skirt, her white nylon slip.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror–at the lacy white bra and matching satin bikini panties, the nude colored pantyhose. She took inventory of the scars at her hips, her shoulder, her thigh. The slender expensive gold watch on her wrist. A gift from Ethan after her last stay in the hospital for her broken shoulder. She heard the loud chiming of the antique clock at the center of the store. Cinderella came to mind. Time no longer mattered. She didn’t shudder when a cold draft of air skimmed across her skin, like ghosts trampling across her grave. Her nipples puckered. Excitement mounted.

All of it, Olivia. Every last piece.

She lifted her chin, straightened her shoulders, glared at her reflection. No fear. Never again.

Her pussy was still wet, soaking the satin of her panties, her lips engorged with blood, sensitive and puffy. It had been a long time since she’d felt this aroused. A very long time. Olivia’s heart was still safely frozen, but her body–her body was on fire.

 

Now available on Amazon (currently a #kindleunlimited selection): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075DHNZKB

 

 

Eternity – an excerpt

In the end he begged to serve the demonic vampire who made him. Maximilian Wolffe was unwillingly turned vampire in 1570. A brutal master should always beware of what he creates.

He claimed her as his servitess. In 1872 Venice, Max and Claudio hunt the streets of Venice. What Max finds is not what he expects–a woman to equal his passion. He claims her and then one day, abandons her. To save her. The memory of his vampiress may be the only thing that saves him from the beast within.

And now he’s back to claim what is his.

 

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EXCERPT:

Lena pulled back the black curtain and looked out the window. Torchlight illuminated what looked like a courtyard beyond the thorn-entwined wooden gate that was being raised by a couple of long-toothed, big furry beasts.
“I still can’t believe there are such creatures as werewolves. Over the years, you’ve certainly turned my belief system upside down, Max.”

“These wolves have been sentries of the land surrounding the castle for centuries. They have served the Conastrata descendants since the castle was built. And they keep the vampire hunters away. A very useful species.”

The horses’ hooves clattered over the cobblestones as they entered the courtyard.

“How old is this place?”

“It dates back to the fifteenth century, constructed in medieval times.”

“Kind of like you.”

She heard him chuckle. “Yes, I guess you might say that.”

Finally the carriage came to a halt in the courtyard. Max waved a hand, the door opened, and he stepped out and then he handed Lena out.

Tonight her gown was in shades of gold and black shot through with crimson thread, split at the front. Rubies had been sewn into the black overskirt. Red lace at the bodice barely concealed her dusky nipples. The caplet and underskirt were gold. Beneath the black silk corset and a multitude of black, gold, and crimson petticoats, she wore no undergarments, no bustle. And she felt decadently bare and wicked beneath the voluminous skirt and petticoats. Her thighs were slick with anticipation as the silk and lace rubbed against her skin.

“I need time alone with you, Max.”

A head taller than Lena, Max looked down at her as they awaited Claudio and Werner’s arrival.

“There’s no need for secrecy here, my dear. You may be quite shocked by the openness of the festivities. The body is to be admired and enjoyment of the flesh is to be openly worshiped.”

“You mean, there is no privacy?”

“As much as you would like, cara. Or as little. I have kept you rather sequestered since turning you. It all may be rather overwhelming for you at first.”

“I think I can handle it. I’ll just follow your lead, darling Max.”

Just then Claudio’s carriage clattered into the courtyard and came to a halt. Claudio stepped from the coach. The vampire was dressed quite elegantly in midnight blue velvet and silver. As he stepped down he tugged on a thick silver-colored chain.

Lena’s jaw dropped when she saw Werner. Oh, she’d seen him naked before, but never like this.

“He let you do that to him? It is Werner, isn’t it?”

“It is. He had no choice. He’s a servitor, he does as I say. As a human there are certain rules to follow. He has the smell of human. If he doesn’t want to end up in another vampire’s coffin, he’ll do exactly as I say. Isn’t that right, pet?”

Werner’s head was completely encased in some sort of black hood. Lena could see his eyes. And there seemed to be a slit for his nose, but there was a buttoned closing over his mouth. All he could do was nod in answer to Claudio’s inquiry.

The hem of the hood was attached by silver rings to a wide iron collar. There were strips of black leather crisscrossing his chest, and decorative chain hanging from a wide leather belt that seemed to serve little purpose. And more straps, with rolled leather edges, running up between his legs, displaying his softened penis.

Cuffs of iron encircled his wrists and ankles, and chain looped through them, soaring upward through the iron collar. The collar was decorated with slender, curved pieces of iron interlaced in a woven pattern. All of the chains seemed to come together culminating in the leash that Claudio held in his hand.

Lena was shocked to see a brand at the center of Werner’s chest that looked quite sore. “What is that? When did you do it?”

“My mark. I should have had him marked long before this, but since we haven’t attended any type of formal gathering, I didn’t think it necessary. Max and I have tended to circuit away from formal vampire affairs in the past. But nevertheless, the brand was accomplished last night. I have used herbs to cement it and help it to heal quickly. You will find all the servitors marked here. Servitors require a great deal of attention. You should think long and hard before deciding to acquire one.”

“As if I would.”

“You never know. One of these dedicants may just appeal to you.”

Lena slid a glance to Max. She couldn’t imagine doing to anyone what Claudio had obviously done to Werner. She glanced again at Werner.

Attired as he was, made him look…anonymous. The depilation was a surprise, but this was far more shocking. Anonymous was the only word she could think of. Indistinct. And yet—

She walked to Werner and reached out, then hesitated, first looking at Claudio. For the first time she found something intriguing about her husband. Was she changing that much in her tastes?

“May I?” Some undefined instinct made her ask permission to touch Werner. Even though technically the man was her husband. And he was a baron. Looking at him, one would never think of him as nobility in his present condition.

“Of course, my dear. What’s mine is yours.”

 

Now available on Amazon and currently a #kindleunlimited selection

Foreplay Enticement – Vampires of Noctra: Blood Bounty

Just a bit of refresh on the “meat” of Blood Bounty

A vampire with a raging thirst for human blood and erotic pleasure; a man with a secret mission to find and destroy the undead.  But lusty midnight passions defy logic.  Boundaries and duty hold no sway on the decks of the Night Stalker.

Captain Dontè Lucienne is the vampire captain of the Night Stalker.  His crew is human.  Men who serve the vampires of Noctra, providing sustenance, as well as loyalty. They are fighters as well as lovers, and devoted to their vampire masters.  They would destroy any who tried to kill their captain.

Skye Templeton is a man on a dangerous mission.  Plucked from the swelling seas by the crew of the Night Stalker, he’s exactly where he needs to be. Will he come out alive?  Or end up as fodder to the lust of the vampirate captain?  His duty is clear—at least until he come to know this lusty crew and their magnetic captain.  Until he comes under the supernatural, relentless spell of the Night Stalker.

Mix  a rescue at sea, a vampire captain, a handsome virile pirate crew, one lone vampire hunter, some nasty zombies, some seductive BDSM, a big boat, and a vast sea.

“Enter,” he roared with the force of a fierce gale. After a moment of hesitation, the door slowly opened. It was Jupiter, his first mate, who edged his way into the cabin. He looked straight at the captain, neither sliding a sidelong glance toward Velvet, nor toward the bed where Vasily, his second mate, was stretched out.

“Permission to speak, Cap’n.”

Donté waved a hand in the air. “What is it? This better be important.”

“We’ve spied someone in the water, sir. The men are about to bring him on board. I thought you’d want to be informed.”

All of Donté’s crew had preternatural eyesight—one of the dark gifts of human service to the vampires of Noctra. Although the black sloop skimmed through the ocean in the dead of night, it might as well have been daylight for their sharp eyesight.

“Does he look promising?” Donté dressed quickly, donning a pair of black breeches and then pulling on a white linen shirt.

“Hard to tell, sir. He was a ways out. Margan send two men out to retrieve him. Looks to be a survivor from another downed ship.”

Was there any other kind this far out to sea? Most of Donté’s crew were survivors from sacrifices to the dangerous, unpredictable seas. Many on the very verge of drowning or being eaten alive by hungry sharks, or worse. Men who’d been thankful for the captain’s beneficence in saving them from a fate far worse than their untimely death in the surging waters.

There’d been a storm the previous night, which might cause a ship to founder. Donté straightened after pulling on the second black leather thigh-high boot.

“Have Liam see to my men, Jupiter.” He glanced over at Velvet. “Leave him for another hour and then release him. In the meantime, take gentle care of Vasily. I’ve fed well and he may be light-headed. I don’t want him up and around before he’s recovered.”

Jupiter nodded. “Yes, Cap’n.”

Donté returned to the bed, leaned down, and kissed Vasily. “Another night, sweeting.” Then he strode out of the cabin, along the passage and headed to the main deck.

As Donté stepped onto the deck Margan and Onyx hauled a very bedraggled man onto the deck with help from several of the sailors. The stranger collapsed against the railing, salt water splashing onto the deck. It was hard to tell much about him considering the exhausted state of the man, but from first glance he certainly looked…intriguing.

The crew made way for the captain to get through. Several of the men held torches, providing a soft glow of light. Donté nudged the half-drowned man with the point of his well-polished black boot. The eyelids of the young man splayed out on the deck fluttered opened. What stunning blue eyes, was Donté first thought. Clear and sparkling like the sea, framed with long sooty lashes. Yes, definitely worth an interrupted hour of his time.

The young man staring up at Donté looked shaken, yet alert.

“What’s your name, lad?”

Donté saw his pink tongue dart out to wet his lips. “Templeton, sir. Skye Templeton. I was on the merchant ship, Topaz, heading back from the West Indies when a storm hit.”

Skye. Donté liked the sound of the name. He dropped down onto his haunches and studied the young man carefully. He pushed back a thick lock of wet hair and Skye shuddered.

“Well, you’re safe now. We’ll get you back to land. What sort of goods were you carrying?”

“Spices, and silks, Captain. All gone down with the ship.”

“So, you’re a merchant then? Or were you perhaps one of the crew?” By the looks of his damaged and wet clothing, he was a gentleman of some means. Even wet they seemed to be a cut of fine quality material.

The look in Skye’s eyes faltered, his glance swiftly taking in the men hovering around, and then flitted back to the captain. One hand moved to his hip. A reflex action. At another time there might have been a pistol, or a sword, perhaps.

Donté’s curiosity was aroused. Was the young man just a merchant, or something more? Skye allowed his hand to drop away. Definitely not a stupid man. Very much a man of some intelligence—and caution. Donté liked that. He had a feeling it might be a bit of a challenge getting this young man to submit and join his crew. As a connoisseur of fine human flesh and blood, just by looking at the self-professed merchant, he bet the young man’s blood was a very expensive vintage of life-giving fluid. Definitely a prize he was not going to toss back to the sea without further careful examination.

Donté straightened to his feet and held out a hand. Skye seemed to consider for a moment and then hesitantly accepted the offer, and Donté easily brought him to his feet. Inches separated them. He could feel the heat of the young man even through the wet, clinging layers of his clothes. He smelled of the salty ocean, of youth, and vitality. Exhausted to be sure, but Donté had a feeling it wouldn’t take much to get him back on his feet.

Donté held his gaze for long moments. The quiet night was broken only by the creaking of the ship and the flapping of the sails in the strong wind. His gaze dropped to Skye’s finely defined lips, traced over the tightly stretched pale skin highlighted in full lunar ambiance and warm firelight. His blue eyes were shadowed, dark half-moons beneath them. If it hadn’t been for that—

Skye stepped away and the spell was broken. Donté could sense the young man’s wariness. But he appeared interested. Maybe intrigued might be a better word.

“Onyx, take our exhausted friend and assign him a berth below. And find him some dry clothes. Check with Nathan and get him something to eat.” He turned back to Skye. “We’ll talk later.”

Onyx stepped forward. “Aye-aye, Cap’n, right away.” He looked at Skye. “Follow me and we’ll get you settled.” He headed toward the companionway that led to the lower decks. Donté watched Skye stumble after him, then he turned back to the rest of the crew.

“Back to work. The night’s still young.” The rest of the men quickly dispersed.

The hold overflowed with bounty and he’d planned to head back to Noctra soon. Maybe a few more days out might not be such a bad thing. It might serve him well to search the area for any other lost souls. Or evidence that a downed ship really had existed.

But right now he had two other sailors who deserved his attention. There were still a few hours left to the evening. He might even release Velvet and allow him into his bed. Donté felt rather pleased just now with the addition of young Skye Templeton. And he was hungry.

His men would not let Skye Templeton out their sights until they could gauge the young man’s intentions. They might try to fuck him for the fun of it, but they would fight to the man to protect their vampire captain. One thing Donté knew he could count on was the loyalty of his crew.

Play hard, fight rough, and yield to their vampire master. Would he gain another willing supplicant? Only time would tell.

Donté opened the polished wooden door to his cabin. Vasily had been unchained and was sitting up on the edge of the bed a glass of wine in one hand and a wedge of cheese in the other. It appeared Liam was just about to attend to the gunner chained to the captain’s wall. Velvet was still bound, his cock deep purple, hard and bobbing, the weight still dancing above the floorboards, his nipples clamped, his body stretched tight, blood pulsing thickly through every fiber. Donté could hear the thundering beat of his heart.

“Thank you, Liam. You may go. I’ll attend to Velvet.”

“Yes, Cap’n.” Without delay Liam left the cabin. Donté watched him leave, admiring the breadth of his shoulders. Another excellent specimen of manhood attached to his crew as his gaze dropped to the sweet, tight ass of the man as he walked out the door. He should make better use of the young carpenter, who happened to be particularly adept with his hands.

As the door closed Donté turned to look at Vasily. His heartbeat was strong as well, not quite as thunderous as Velvet’s, but still sounding fully recovered from his earlier…exertions.

They were both beautifully angelic in their own way, with more of a fallen angel appeal. Both with silky, black braided locks that dusted their shoulders, and bronzed skin from long hours of work on deck during daylight.

Donté took good care of his human servants and they glowed with health and vibrancy. He took great pride in the humans who served him. Loyalty was not something that could be bought or beaten into men. Respect was earned. His men gave trust and loyalty because he respected their humanness. But he ruled his ship with iron command.

It had been a long voyage and everyone was ready to get back to Noctra. Just a few more days and he’d give the order. But not just yet.

He gazed hungrily at his two beautiful young men. “Shall we continue, gentlemen? I suddenly have a voracious appetite once again and I’ll need both of you to satisfy my thirst.”

Vampires of Noctra: Blood Bounty. Now available at Amazon

 

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Deadeye – an excerpt

Not for the faint of heart. Note the CAUTION to potential readers below. Best get that said up front. Deadeye, now re-released with a new cover.

deadeye_smA question that often is in the back of readers’ minds. Do I research my back stories? You bet I do–extensively. From Bad Girls and Soiled Doves, to Cowboys to Demons, to Gods and Goddesses, Roman soldiers, desert environments, time periods, weapons, and combat. Now, because I research, doesn’t mean I don’t twist and turn and scrunch, and yes, mutilate, things, situations and people, because that’s what fiction is about. So tread warily. Probably should leave your assumed boundaries for genre and romance and history and mythology at the door as well. Beyond that, come on in and have a taste of the naughty, the terrible, the passionate and the lustful.

 

#darkfantasy #erotica #MMF #bisexual #romance #paranormal #erotichorror #kindleunlimited
 
Dark and deadly adventure awaits in Deadeye.
 
Vitus and Caecilia must embrace a world of lustful and devious demons in order to succeed in their mission. And Justus, an incubus, half-breed son of the demon lord of Infernia and a Dreamweaver Sorceress, must shed his dark shadow in order to accept his destiny as a Nacraecian Dreamweaver Sorcerer. Three who meet, three who must face their duty, three who risk everything to be free.
 
CAUTION: This dark fantasy, dark romance, story contains explicit sexual situations and strong language. Content may be objectionable and beyond comfort zones to some readers and includes dubious consent, multiple sex partners, bisexual activity, some elements of BDSM, involving hot demons, sexy cowboys, seductive soiled doves, as well as titillating satyrs, dominating gods and goddesses, and confronting flesh-craving zombies. Whew! You must be over the age of 18 years of age to read this story.
 

An excerpt from Deadeye

“He puts on quite a show, doesn’t he? And he certainly has a way of firing up his audience.”

Vitus studied the woman dressed in white who seated herself at the table. He noted the necklace. She still wore it and the sight of his ring pleased him. A surge of possessiveness erupted inside him, pooling in his groin, arousing him in a way the stage performance had failed. The burn of desire steadily grew brighter. Caecilia reached up to curl her fingers around the ring in almost a protective fashion. Her hand rested about the curve of her voluptuous breasts. She caught his eye, slowly unfurled her fingers and released the ring. It caught the gaslight of the room as the ring dangled against her skin, finally nestling happily in the valley between her breasts.

It took effort for Vitus to lift his gaze to meet hers. He’d not seen her in a hundred years and, as it always did, the sight of her aroused him to heights he found difficult to wrangle into submission. Emotions clashed and sparked inside him. He watched as she poured the whiskey, turned the glass to the spot from which he’d just drunk. She lifted it, licked the rim, watched him, dipped the tip of her pink tongue into the golden liquid, then licked her lips.

“Caecilia.” His tone was one of warning.

She dipped the end of her finger into the glass, then thrust the tip into her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked on the digit. Vitus’s cock jerked, hardened, as he watched her. He damned Apollo, he damned Aphrodite, he damned Diana. But most of all he damned himself for wanting Caecilia as much as he had when he’d first seen her on the banks of the Tiber. She tipped the glass and swallowed the contents. It took every last bit of his self-control not to reach for her, to stroke her slender throat, to press his lips to the beautiful column, to claim what her lips promised.

She smiled, grabbed the bottle and poured another shot of the whiskey into Vitus’s glass. She lifted it and swallowed the fiery liquid. “It’s been a while, Vitus. It’s good to see you.”

“Is it? Why tempt me, Caecilia, when you know what the punishment would be?”

She shrugged. “After all these years maybe I’m just tired of fighting.” She leaned over the table, her plump breasts pale and enticing. “Don’t you want to forget them all, just for one night? Wouldn’t one night of just us be worth whatever punishment they meted out?”

He took her hand between both of his. He stroked his thumb across the silk of her flesh. “You don’t have a clue what it would mean to become a source for Infernia. I do. There will come a time when we’ll be together. I vow to you. One day this weight—this pain—will be gone.”

Something in her eyes shifted. He saw the need, the yearning. He released her hand. She drew away.

“Of course, Vitus. You’re a Roman warrior, after all. You’re used to deprivation. You think to save me from myself, but I think it’s slowly destroying us both. How much of your humanity is left, Vitus? After Apollo? After Zevodious? Can you even feel anything anymore?”

Caecilia knew him too well even though they’d spent so little time together. Much of his humanity seemed to have evaporated. But apparently there was still a glint left. Cuthbert had shown him that. But what about her? Caecilia was no longer the virgin maiden he’d made love to on that long ago summer’s day next to the Tiber. She was now one of Aphrodite’s sirens. Lush, seductive, and skilled in the sensual arts as she had not been so long ago.

She turned from his close scrutiny to gaze at the seduction taking place on the stage and nodded toward the actors. “He’s your mission.”

“The boy in shackles?”

“No. The demon who’s about to fuck the woman.”

Vitus swung around to look at Caecilia. “Demon? I thought it was supposed to be a sorcerer.”

“Justus is a sorcerer. And a demon. His blood is both.”

“And the couple?”

She shrugged, then poured herself another shot of whiskey. “Losers at the tables. They all know there’s a price when they come here. They aren’t the first and won’t be the last. There are no secrets. They all think they’re shrewder than the tables, that they can beat the odds. Of course, none of them do.”

Vitus had seen that hunger in Cuthbert. If not for the hell-zombies thrown in his path, and Vitus saving his ass in the nick of time, it could be the young gambler eventually standing on that stage. Except he sure as hell was no virgin. Justus had the woman on the bench. He was parting her legs, her thighs were shiny with her moisture. Head dropped back, eyes closed, breasts upthrust, she appeared more than ready to accept the demon’s doubled-headed cock into her sweet, young pussy.

“Newly married couple, looking to make their fortune?”

“Brother and sister.”

Vitus swung back to look at Caecilia. He saw little expression on her face, little concern for the couple on the stage.

Caecilia turned and looked up to a curtained box on the other side of the saloon. “He’s in there, watching, waiting. I believe the girl’s a virgin—for a few more seconds anyway. Greed brought them here and they’ll pay heavily for losing. The girl will go with him, he’ll keep her until he’s impregnated her, then he’ll send her back to the living world. As he does with all those who catch his eye.”

“And the boy?”

She stared at him steadily. “You know what will happen to him. Some will survive, as you did. Some won’t.” She turned back to the stage. “I don’t think he’ll be one of the survivors. But with luck he won’t become one of the hell-zombies.”

The girl screamed as Justus penetrated her. She arched and her arms came around Justus as though to pull him closer. Her thighs fell open even wider, supplicating herself completely to Justus.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

Justus surged into her, rode her. At the last moment his attention turned to the table where Vitus and Caecilia were seated. The girl beneath him screamed as she came. Justus drove into her again, his eyes on Caecilia. And again. Long, deep, powerful strokes. Again, Lucy came. Justus grinned, his skin now a deep wine-red burgundy expressing his depth of arousal as he fucked Lucy and stared at Caecilia.

“He wants you,” Vitus said.

“He’ll have me.”

 

Excerpt from Gulietta by Darcy Abriel

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She reached for him, but he stopped her. His big hands locked around her fragile wrists.

“Slowly,” he said.

“I can’t wait. I need you now.”

“And so you shall have me. Calm yourself. I know the rage is upon you. You’ll enjoy it so much more if you relax.”

“Enjoy it? You’ve got to be kidding.”

He tilted his head as he looked at her. “You’ve never enjoyed the mating?”

“Not that I can remember. Now stop talking and fuck me. Or I’ll find someone else who will.” She reached for his cock and again he pushed away her hands.

He leaned toward her, and his lips brushed against hers.

“Open your mouth,” he whispered.

If she wanted to ease the pain, she was going to have to do what he asked. She couldn’t bear the cramping of her womb any longer. The medicine the doctors gave her never helped. There was only one way to ease the ache.

She opened her mouth. He licked across her lips, then buried his tongue inside. She sucked for all she was worth. The clench of her womb increased as though to say, “Yes, this is the one. I want him.”

And so you shall have him, bane of my existence. As soon as he allows me to have him.

He withdrew his tongue, then began to lick along her jaw, circling over her chin. Tilting her head slightly, he tracked down her throat. Then he unbuttoned her shirt, peeling it back to expose her breasts. The cool night air brushed across her skin, heightening her awareness. She shivered from the exquisite contact.

The cramping continued, but something else curled inside her. A heat that spiraled through her. A wetness that pooled between her thighs. Wetter than she’d ever been before.

A sound somewhere between a purr and a moan escaped from her. He lifted his head and looked at her. Then she gasped as he spun her around and pulled her even deeper into the alleyway. Not a sound but their heavy breathing. The long, drawn-out yowl of a cat suddenly echoed through the deserted passage. She stiffened, but then the stranger captured her attention once more and she forgot about anything else.

His kisses drugged her as he claimed her lips, then dipped lower and sucked a nipple deep into his mouth.

A tight arrow of ache and ecstasy shot through her, from her breasts to her cunt. Oh, God, it felt so good. Too good. Her womb clenched tighter, and her pussy dripped more cream onto her thighs. One of his hands gripped her calf and lifted her leg. He yanked off her boot and she heard the thump as it landed on the pavement.

She didn’t care. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted any man before. However he wanted to do it, she was more than willing. There was a difference. Yes, she had needed the sex before. But on this night she wanted it. And that was unusual. He shoved her pants down her legs, all the way, then yanked one leg of her jeans complete off, freeing one of her limbs.

He raised the bare leg, anchored it against his powerful thigh, opened her wide, then shoved his cock into her wet pussy. He lifted her with huge muscled arms, and she wrapped her free leg around his waist. His mouth found hers once more, fusing them together. Not a space for breath, from willing mouth to wet cunt, locked lips to rigid cock, and she felt him so deeply the world rocked, splintered and fell away.

He forced her to remain still, just holding her close, her pussy wrapped tightly around his cock, lips wide, hairs tickling. Sanity shifted.

“I have come for you and you alone, woman,” he said.

“W-who are you?” His cock nudged deeper and she whimpered as the tip brushed against the opening of her cervix.

“I am Quintus, the Roman. Servant of your father.”

Her eyes widened. “My father!”

And then he began to move inside her and she thought she would die from the pleasure. Slow surges, in and out as he ground against her. Her back wedged against the brick wall, he drove his cock into her channel. The first climax shattered her.

An Excerpt from Siren’s Nocturne

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The night should frighten her, but this was her home ground. She actually felt more at ease in the darkness than she ever had during daylight. She and Etienne had often traversed the night long after her parents were asleep. He would call to her and she would climb down from her window to join him on their nightly excursions.

On many occasion in the past Lucille had thought that must be the reason daylight seemed to sap her strength. She had become so used to the night. As soon as the sun set, it felt as though energy flowed through her, calling her out to adventure in the darkness.

She hadn’t realized how much she missed Etienne and this place. Not until this very moment. It seemed to Lucille that she had spent so many years fighting her true calling, pushing against walls that refused to budge. Tonight it was as though she flew across the ground, weightless and free.

She inhaled the night air deeply, filling her lungs with its moist density, before entering the pavilion proper.

As she arrived at the entrance to the foyer, she halted when she noticed the hundred or so black candles burning brightly scattered through the main room. It was as though the flames hovered in the air, the candles themselves blending into the shadows of the room. And then she gasped and drew back when she saw the two pale bodies, a woman with long, flowing dark brown hair that spilled over the edges of the white marble altar, stretched out at the feet of the statue of Hel. Lucille drew back into the shadows and set down the lantern at her feet.

Flickering candlelight bathed the flesh of the naked woman sprawled on the altar, a man poised over her on his knees. Flesh so pale it matched the pristine marble of the altar upon which the woman lay. Lucille’s gaze focused on the strange wispy cloud hovering between the woman’s lips and the man’s. Undulating and swirling between them.

Lucille’s acute eyesight, particularly in the most limited illumination, had been another curiosity. Tonight it worked to her advantage as her sharp gaze flashed over the man’s body, noting the column of marble white, rigid cock swinging between his legs as he seemed to inhale the ethereal cloud, rocking his body over the woman. Tight, muscled buttocks flexed with his movements as he undulated back and forth, the image weaving a seductive spell through Lucille. The woman’s body levered and arched up, pressing against the man as though locked to him by the odd misty vapor. Her head tossed back and forth and Lucille could hear her throaty moans echo throughout the chamber. Sounds of pleasure, a keening pitch to the tone that vibrated within Lucille.

It made her yearn to be the woman, to feel the man touching her, fucking her. Something seemed so familiar about him. About the act that was being performed before her right now. Her breaths quickened as she watched, the flood of her juices evidence of the depth of her arousal as she watched the erotic passion play.

The woman dropped back down onto the ledge as though weakened by whatever had just taken place; the vapor dissipated. Her head lolled to the side, the crimson mask glittering in firelight, her eyelids fluttering as though she couldn’t keep her eyes opened.

Lucille was shocked to realize it was a look she’d often seen on Brad’s face after they’d made love until the wee hours before dawn broke.

The man rose up, grabbed the woman’s lush, pale thighs and yanked her to him, positioning his cock at her entrance. As he slammed into her, a strange white light flooded the woman, and the man stroked his hands over her body, a path of pale light trailing his every touch like bits of lightning, flickering in his wake. Veins of light littered her flesh, ragged arcs of energy racing over her skin, sucked to the surface by the path of his hands over her body.

What was he doing to the woman? Lucille had never seen anything like it. The fascination held her rooted to the spot, unable to move. The heat of sexual frenzy bloomed over her own flesh at the terrible, seductive sight.

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